Thursday, November 1, 2007
Scroll Down!
After a few months in exile, this blog is finally fully updated to here and now. If you haven't recently, please scroll down through the most recent posts, and click "older posts" at the bottom right of the page to see if you've missed any. Since I have less than two months left, I will stay more on top of things from now on. Thanks for reading, feel free to leave comments, and be well!
Castel Sant'Angelo
The name of the LORD is a strong tower; the righteous run into it and are safe. - Proverbs 18:10
If you've read any Dan Brown books, the mythology and lore of Roman art and architecture probably have a much different significance for you than what it really holds. While these ancient sites likely have more than their fair share of secrets and scandals, it's not likely quite the way he depicts it. Perhaps one of the best examples of this is Castel Sant'Angelo. In his book "Angels And Demons", he makes this place out to be the illicit lair of the Illuminati, complete with super-secret passageway to the Vatican. In reality, it's served many purposes throughout history - one of them being safe storage for the Pope, for which the "secret" passageway does indeed exist, albeit very visibly.
The building began its life as a tomb for the Roman emperor Hadrian in 138, and other emperors were also buried there. However, following the fall of Rome it was vandalized and fell into disrepair, as so many things did. It eventually became a military fortress, and by the 14th century it became a sort of Papal castle. It was generally intended to be used to house the Pope in times of crisis - something Clement VII was thankful for in 1527. It was also a prison, as immortalized in Puccini's Tosca, and is now a rather benign museum.
Nonetheless, I can hardly look at an old castle without thinking of the Bible's multiple references to castles and fortresses. Maybe these analogies don't work as well in our day, since we don't really have them around any more. But when I look at Castel Sant'Angelo, I know exactly what Proverbs intends us to hear: God is vast, secure, spacious, and most importantly, unbelievably strong. Just as the Pope would run to this castle in time of greatest need, so we run to our God when things seem most desperate. No matter what the crisis, God will protect. God will shield. When we are granted the faith to claim God as our God, we are granted everything that comes with it, including everlasting security.
One of my seminary professors noted that most people have trouble with this concept seeing as how much goes wrong in life: sickness, injury, war, famine, death. He noted that given all these horrors, it's remarkable that we are able to survive at all. He attributes this to God's eternal protection and guidance. It's the only thing that keeps things going. In a world of danger and disease, our God is a strong tower that gives us refuge.
Lord God, in you we are promised refuge. Your guidance and mercy give hope even when things seem darkest. Grant us the faith to trust you in all things, keeping the faith always. Please shield us from the terrors of life, and give us healing when they attack us. In all things, we praise you and your strength, no matter what. All these things we know and believe in your Son's gracious name, Amen.
If you've read any Dan Brown books, the mythology and lore of Roman art and architecture probably have a much different significance for you than what it really holds. While these ancient sites likely have more than their fair share of secrets and scandals, it's not likely quite the way he depicts it. Perhaps one of the best examples of this is Castel Sant'Angelo. In his book "Angels And Demons", he makes this place out to be the illicit lair of the Illuminati, complete with super-secret passageway to the Vatican. In reality, it's served many purposes throughout history - one of them being safe storage for the Pope, for which the "secret" passageway does indeed exist, albeit very visibly.
The building began its life as a tomb for the Roman emperor Hadrian in 138, and other emperors were also buried there. However, following the fall of Rome it was vandalized and fell into disrepair, as so many things did. It eventually became a military fortress, and by the 14th century it became a sort of Papal castle. It was generally intended to be used to house the Pope in times of crisis - something Clement VII was thankful for in 1527. It was also a prison, as immortalized in Puccini's Tosca, and is now a rather benign museum.Nonetheless, I can hardly look at an old castle without thinking of the Bible's multiple references to castles and fortresses. Maybe these analogies don't work as well in our day, since we don't really have them around any more. But when I look at Castel Sant'Angelo, I know exactly what Proverbs intends us to hear: God is vast, secure, spacious, and most importantly, unbelievably strong. Just as the Pope would run to this castle in time of greatest need, so we run to our God when things seem most desperate. No matter what the crisis, God will protect. God will shield. When we are granted the faith to claim God as our God, we are granted everything that comes with it, including everlasting security.
One of my seminary professors noted that most people have trouble with this concept seeing as how much goes wrong in life: sickness, injury, war, famine, death. He noted that given all these horrors, it's remarkable that we are able to survive at all. He attributes this to God's eternal protection and guidance. It's the only thing that keeps things going. In a world of danger and disease, our God is a strong tower that gives us refuge.
Lord God, in you we are promised refuge. Your guidance and mercy give hope even when things seem darkest. Grant us the faith to trust you in all things, keeping the faith always. Please shield us from the terrors of life, and give us healing when they attack us. In all things, we praise you and your strength, no matter what. All these things we know and believe in your Son's gracious name, Amen.
The Catacombs of San Callistus
Listen, I will tell you a mystery! We will not all die, but we will all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. For this perishable body must put on imperishability, and this mortal body must put on immortality. When this perishable body puts on imperishability, and this mortal body puts on immortality, then the saying that is written will be fulfilled: "Death has been swallowed up in victory. Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?" - 1 Corinthians 15:51-55
One of the great legends of Rome is its collection of catacombs just outside the old city walls. In New Testament times, the catacombs were a necessity, as burial of any kind was forbidden within city limits. Pagans and Jews alike had to transport their dead outside the city for burial, and since land was an expensive commodity then as now, they tunneled in layers below the surface to make as much room as possible. The land surrounding Rome is a volcanic soil which, once dug out and exposed to air, forms a hard, cement-like layer; this makes digging tunnels, niches, and tombs comparatively easy. After the fall of Rome, these layers of tombs fell into disuse and neglect until 1849 when an amateur Italian archaeologist named Giovanni Battista di Rossi accidentally discovered the entry to one of the biggest ones, San Callistus.
This particular catacomb started and remained a Christian burial place, as the land was donated by a wealth Christian convert to provide Christians (who were not often very affluent) a respectable burial. Nine popes were buried here, giving in the moniker of the Little Vatican, and St. Cecelia, patron saint of music, was originally buried here until she was moved to a different church in Rome. Numerous other bishops, martyrs, and early Christians were also buried here. Do not, however, believe the myth that the catacombs only existed for secret burials and worship. Any Roman was buried in a catacomb - this one was simply particularly Christian. Also, only occasional services were held in the catacombs, particularly on saint days and festivals. This was done without regard to persecutions or lack thereof.
The real mystery of the catacombs, if you can call it that, is the simple representation of early Christian faith. It has its own symbols, showing how early Christians truly believed in a full resurrection of the body. It represents a commitment to caring for the neighbor by providing burial for even non-Christians who couldn't otherwise afford a proper burial. While not as dramatic as some might believe, it also demonstrates the early martyrs in the faith who inspired other believers to be firm.
Inside the catacomb, you cannot but feel a connection to this faith. (Photos are not allowed; great pictures and explanations are available at this site.) The art is simple but evocative. Even the rows upon rows of burial places serve to remind you of an early faith which somehow spoke to the hearts of more and more people, in spite of its lack of popularity or sometimes outright persecution. Most importantly, it reminds you that death is not the end. These bodies might not be living, but as Christians we know that someday they will rise again and be united with Christ. Whether you believe that resurrection will be bodily or spiritual, the fact remains that death doesn't have the last word. We are promised a resurrection like Christ's, and we wait expectantly for that day.
Our powerful God, God of life and mercy, you sent us your Son so that through him we would not truly perish, but have eternal life. Grant that we might one day be together with him in glory, alongside all the saints, worshiping with joy. While we might mourn in death, give us comfort knowing that it is not final, thanks to the work of your Son, Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.
One of the great legends of Rome is its collection of catacombs just outside the old city walls. In New Testament times, the catacombs were a necessity, as burial of any kind was forbidden within city limits. Pagans and Jews alike had to transport their dead outside the city for burial, and since land was an expensive commodity then as now, they tunneled in layers below the surface to make as much room as possible. The land surrounding Rome is a volcanic soil which, once dug out and exposed to air, forms a hard, cement-like layer; this makes digging tunnels, niches, and tombs comparatively easy. After the fall of Rome, these layers of tombs fell into disuse and neglect until 1849 when an amateur Italian archaeologist named Giovanni Battista di Rossi accidentally discovered the entry to one of the biggest ones, San Callistus.
This particular catacomb started and remained a Christian burial place, as the land was donated by a wealth Christian convert to provide Christians (who were not often very affluent) a respectable burial. Nine popes were buried here, giving in the moniker of the Little Vatican, and St. Cecelia, patron saint of music, was originally buried here until she was moved to a different church in Rome. Numerous other bishops, martyrs, and early Christians were also buried here. Do not, however, believe the myth that the catacombs only existed for secret burials and worship. Any Roman was buried in a catacomb - this one was simply particularly Christian. Also, only occasional services were held in the catacombs, particularly on saint days and festivals. This was done without regard to persecutions or lack thereof.
The real mystery of the catacombs, if you can call it that, is the simple representation of early Christian faith. It has its own symbols, showing how early Christians truly believed in a full resurrection of the body. It represents a commitment to caring for the neighbor by providing burial for even non-Christians who couldn't otherwise afford a proper burial. While not as dramatic as some might believe, it also demonstrates the early martyrs in the faith who inspired other believers to be firm.
Inside the catacomb, you cannot but feel a connection to this faith. (Photos are not allowed; great pictures and explanations are available at this site.) The art is simple but evocative. Even the rows upon rows of burial places serve to remind you of an early faith which somehow spoke to the hearts of more and more people, in spite of its lack of popularity or sometimes outright persecution. Most importantly, it reminds you that death is not the end. These bodies might not be living, but as Christians we know that someday they will rise again and be united with Christ. Whether you believe that resurrection will be bodily or spiritual, the fact remains that death doesn't have the last word. We are promised a resurrection like Christ's, and we wait expectantly for that day.
Our powerful God, God of life and mercy, you sent us your Son so that through him we would not truly perish, but have eternal life. Grant that we might one day be together with him in glory, alongside all the saints, worshiping with joy. While we might mourn in death, give us comfort knowing that it is not final, thanks to the work of your Son, Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.
Water Fountains
Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city. On either side of the river is the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, producing its fruit each month; and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. - Revelation 22:1-2
Being a thirsty tourist gets pretty easy in Rome. Throughout the city, you find tons of fountains ready and waiting for your empty water bottle. In fact, you can safely assume that any running water throughout the city can be safely consumed unless it is in the vast minority marked acqua non potabile (water not drinkable). You could technically climb into any one of the numerous ornamental fountains, but the bathing pigeons - not to mention your wet shoes and pants - would probably serve as sufficient deterrent.
Instead, you can walk up to any of the constantly-flowing water spigots found in numerous nooks, crannies, piazzas, and street corners in Rome. Being so close to mountain streams and pure springs, these fountains have no shortage of fresh, cool water. People walk up to them to wash their hands, splash some water on their face, fill a bottle, or even plug the end to shoot some water up through the tiny hole on the top, a la American water fountain. Everyone gathers to these fountains, especially on hot days, and everyone is grateful for them.
It brings to my mind the utopia in Revelation, where water flows through the city and healing trees grow on its banks. Rome is hardly the pristine New Jerusalem, and its fountains aren't exactly the water of life, but its the reminder and not the reality that counts. The ubiquity of water in this city, and the way it restores everyone from affluent tourists to thirsty beggars, constantly brings to mind the frequent Biblical references to water. Water brings death and destruction in abundance, brings suffering and pain in its absence, and gives life and renewal in simple presence. It's no wonder the river of life is such a powerful, peaceful image - water in this form gives life to life, and reminds us of our dependence on God's gifts.
I drink out of these Roman fountains often, having long since put aside my fears of germs. (You have to get over that pretty quickly in Rome, anyway.) Every time I do, I remind myself of God's graciousness. God provides us love and grace as overflowing as a fountain, and I can fill up at it any time. It washes away my dirtiness, quenches my thirst, and unites me with my neighbor in my need. Just as I was washed in water at baptism, I am renewed by it every time I take a sip. These fountains may not be the river of life, but they'll keep me going until I can sit on its banks.
God of abundance, you bless us with everything we need in this world and in the next. In water you claim us, clean us, and constantly renew us. Remind us of your call in our baptism, and keep us ever refreshed in its waters. Bring us together finally in the New Jerusalem, where we can gather at the shores of the river of life and be in your presence always. We pray this in your Son's name, Amen.
Being a thirsty tourist gets pretty easy in Rome. Throughout the city, you find tons of fountains ready and waiting for your empty water bottle. In fact, you can safely assume that any running water throughout the city can be safely consumed unless it is in the vast minority marked acqua non potabile (water not drinkable). You could technically climb into any one of the numerous ornamental fountains, but the bathing pigeons - not to mention your wet shoes and pants - would probably serve as sufficient deterrent.Instead, you can walk up to any of the constantly-flowing water spigots found in numerous nooks, crannies, piazzas, and street corners in Rome. Being so close to mountain streams and pure springs, these fountains have no shortage of fresh, cool water. People walk up to them to wash their hands, splash some water on their face, fill a bottle, or even plug the end to shoot some water up through the tiny hole on the top, a la American water fountain. Everyone gathers to these fountains, especially on hot days, and everyone is grateful for them.
It brings to my mind the utopia in Revelation, where water flows through the city and healing trees grow on its banks. Rome is hardly the pristine New Jerusalem, and its fountains aren't exactly the water of life, but its the reminder and not the reality that counts. The ubiquity of water in this city, and the way it restores everyone from affluent tourists to thirsty beggars, constantly brings to mind the frequent Biblical references to water. Water brings death and destruction in abundance, brings suffering and pain in its absence, and gives life and renewal in simple presence. It's no wonder the river of life is such a powerful, peaceful image - water in this form gives life to life, and reminds us of our dependence on God's gifts.
I drink out of these Roman fountains often, having long since put aside my fears of germs. (You have to get over that pretty quickly in Rome, anyway.) Every time I do, I remind myself of God's graciousness. God provides us love and grace as overflowing as a fountain, and I can fill up at it any time. It washes away my dirtiness, quenches my thirst, and unites me with my neighbor in my need. Just as I was washed in water at baptism, I am renewed by it every time I take a sip. These fountains may not be the river of life, but they'll keep me going until I can sit on its banks.
God of abundance, you bless us with everything we need in this world and in the next. In water you claim us, clean us, and constantly renew us. Remind us of your call in our baptism, and keep us ever refreshed in its waters. Bring us together finally in the New Jerusalem, where we can gather at the shores of the river of life and be in your presence always. We pray this in your Son's name, Amen.
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